


Pretty, Shiny Things

by SithHappens



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Fantasy, Magic, Merman!Seb - Freeform, Mythical Creature, Reader Insert, Sailors and their stories, innocent little Merman too cute, mermaid au, slightly changed mythos, supernatural!Seb, the many supernatural faces of Sebastian Stan, thrown overboard, too precious for this world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:09:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7822648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SithHappens/pseuds/SithHappens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being found out by your shipmates, you're thrown overboard and into the mercy of the open waters.  That mercy greets you in the form of an intelligent, excitable, beautiful mythical creature that saves your life on more than one occasion and soon becomes more precious to you than all the pretty, shiny things he collects from the bottom of the sea.  Mermaid AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty, Shiny Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abovethesmokestacks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abovethesmokestacks/gifts).



> Who knew that a (mostly) innocent little tumblr post about Sebastian Stan's otherwordly handsomeness could lead to actual fics? You should check out abovethesmokestacks' work "A Demon's Guide to Deal-Making" for another dose of Supernatural!Seb.
> 
> Crossposted from my tumblr: ursulaismymiddlename

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Thrashing wildly against violent waves in the middle of the sea. Weighed down with the saturation of your heavy overcoat and trousers without even the stars to guide you in which direction to go. The barest hint of moonlight shone through the clouds, just enough that you could make out each salty crest that could be your death. A part of you, behind the sputtering and flailing and quickly tiring muscles, wished it was pitch black instead. At least then, maybe your brain would give up the damnable, desperate idea of hope.  
  
No, this wasn't how it was supposed to go. Though it seemed that the sort of luck that left a young woman without family and practically penniless wasn't easily shed. A life of piracy seemed an easy enough thing to keep you alive, especially short runs where you could keep your head down and the makeup of your body a secret. It was close quarters with hard work and sometimes little food, but you'd always loved tales of the sea and weren't put off by hard labor. Most of the men weren't even as bad as one would think, crude for sure and not always the cleanliest, yet you still dressed yourself in a young man's clothes and masked your voice the few times you spoke. There might have been tales of fabulous female pirates, but you knew sailors, for all their worldly knowledge, could still be very superstitious.  
  
It was that superstition that put you overboard in the middle of the night. You didn't know what caused their suspicion, but when a pair of your drunken shipmates, the rowdier ones you'd done your best to steer clear of, cornered you at the railing late that night, you knew you'd been found out. And when you fought against their attempts to strip you naked to bring back good luck, you found yourself plummeting into the water below. The hard splash knocked you senseless for a short time, treading water on instinct alone, and you were swept further from the ship. Before you knew it, the vessel was a distant outline in the windy darkness.  
  
You knew you wouldn't last much longer. Arm and legs screaming in protest, eyes burning with the salt and what vision you had getting blurrier by the moment as you gasped and sputtered. Another large swell and you were dragged head over feet under the surface, disorienting you. The last feeble dash for air proved useless, no more strength in you to fight. All that was left was to let go. Hope that it could be peaceful. And that the strange sensation of a hand wrapping around your arm was meant to pull you up to Heaven and not drag you down to Hell.  
  
\---  
  
Waking up at all was a surprise, let alone waking up to warm sun on your back and smooth rock beneath your cheek and chest. There was a vague memory of coughing up salty seawater across the solid surface, but now it was bone dry and your clothes were stiff, save for your shoes and the cuffs of your trousers where you could feel waves licking up over your feet. Between the sunlight and the glare from the water, opening your eyes blinded you momentarily as you tried to lift yourself up. The muscles in your arms were weak from their exertion, so you settled for attempting to roll over onto your back. Just then a loud splash to your right drew your attention and you blinked rapidly, trying to focus your vision as a spray of water struck your face and a shadowed figure loomed over you.  
  
"You're awake!"  
  
You startled at the excited male voice, trying to back away in fear and confusion. Twin noises of surprise filled the air when he reached out to stay you with a hand around your elbow. The realization dawned that you were about to tumble straight over the side of the rock, into who knew what hazards below. You shut your eyes again, shaking your head, willing them to adjust to the bright glare. The hand eased off you as you looked up again. Fingers were sweeping dark, damp hair away from a handsome face that was dripping seawater from the tip of a nose, ears, a strong jaw, more rivulets etching down a lithe, unclothed chest to where he leaned over the edge of the rock. The blue of the water reflected in the bright, curious eyes that regarded you.  
  
"Careful," he cautioned through a smile. "You're still too weak to swim. I had to drag you up here to keep out of the water."  
  
Attempting to speak drew a hoarse noise from our parched throat, but you managed to swallow and wet your lips while you sat up. "Th-thank you."  
  
"You're welcome," he beamed, leaning on his elbows. "I've seen other sailors fall in before. Someone always throws out a rope to help them. I waited to see if they would, but no one did. Then I saw you get pulled under the water and you were down there too long. I thought I would help you."  
  
"You saw..." you started to ask, trailing off as your mind finally caught up with you. Until that point, you thought the current might have miraculously washed you ashore somewhere. That the man had spotted you and pulled you in before high tide could finish the job. But glancing around, you realized you were far from any large land mass. The closest thing was what seemed to be a tiny island just visible in the middle distance from where you sat on a small outcropping of rock. The man had definitely not been from your ship, you would've recognized him, and there were no other vessels you could see. A sudden panic bubbled up in your chest. "How did you see me fall? Who are you? What are you doing out here?"  
  
He raised his dark eyebrows with a tilt of his head, smirking indulgently at you as one might a small, confused child. "I live here."  
  
"What do you mean, you live here," you insisted, feeling somewhat perturbed at what you took as a condescending expression. The man turned his back on you then, which gave you half a mind to start shouting at him, but then he pressed his palms behind him on the solid surface and began hoisting himself up with a surge of water. You braced yourself, expecting to find him completely nude. It would not have been the first naked man you ever saw, but it still wouldn't do to show him any surprise at the sight. Of course, you could not have rightly expected or prepared yourself for what he did reveal.  
  
At the taper of his waist, beneath a strong back with little dottings of scars here and there, rested a belt of sorts, tilted low with the weight of a sheathed dagger and small satchel. Not out of the ordinary in and of itself. Yet below that, where you thought to find the slight swell of hips, instead you witnessed skin disappearing into some strange material that hugged tight. It wasn't until he was sitting beside you and turned that you fully realized what you were seeing. A large tail slipped into view, tapering out just longer than a man's legs would naturally, set with wide, deep gray scales that shimmered in the light with the same silvery-blue color as the delicate gauzy membranes stretched across fins both large and small. Twisting just so, your companion on the rock plucked a strand of seaweed from the spines of one fin to toss back into the waves before fixing you with an expectant smile.  
  
Reeling in shock, no doubt exacerbated by weakness and dehydration, you didn't know you were pitching backwards towards the edge of the rock once again until concern flashed across his face and he reached out for the fabric of your overcoat to keep you from falling. A closer glance at his hands revealed strong fingers with a slight webbing between the digits, but you weren't given long to gape at them until he was pulling you closer to him. Befuddled and light-headed, you somehow managed to sputter out "You're... you're a mermaid!?"  
  
"A mermaid," he huffed with a bit of indignation while taking a moment to right you properly. He slid over some to give you plenty of space to keep yourself steady, letting the end of his tail dangle over his side. The tone of his voice had you blinking down at him in confusion while he laid back on the rock, hands tucked behind his head in an easy way, apparently satisfied with how he'd situated you. And there was a strange, surreal familiarity in the slight roll of his eyes and the idle swish of his fin in the water. "We're not all female you know. Some are male or both or neither. And this is much closer to your male than female."  
  
He emphasized his point with a flourish of his hand to indicate his torso before settling back again, eyes closing as if intent on soaking up the sun. The outlandishness of the scenario was entirely beyond your comprehension. Tossed overboard, saved by a sea creature, why not add him being upset about inappropriate terminology. Still, you wanted to exercise some caution. Best case scenario, he was an hallucination brought on by breathing too much seawater. At worst, he was indeed what all the myths and legends said, which could prove deadly at any moment. "Would you rather mer... man, then? Merfolk?"  
  
A pale eye cracked open and met your gaze, closing a moment later as his features took on a look of deep consideration. Finally, he nodded slightly. "Merfolk for all of us. Merman for me."  
  
"Alright," you nodded slowly, despite him not being able to see you. There were a few moments of quiet, filled only with the sound of sea against the rocks, as you tried to think of something more to say. Inching further from him in your apprehension, but careful of the precarious drop beside you, you eventually said "We have a lot of stories about... about merfolk. Not all of them are very nice. Sometimes... sometimes they say merfolk lure ships to their death upon the rocks."  
  
"Sailors and their tales," he scoffed, but opened his eyes with a small smile tilting his lips. He moved his hands from behind his head to rest against his stomach. "Maybe it's happened before, but mostly they see one or two of us, think they will try to catch us, and end up running aground in the pursuit. You know how you humans can be. Not our fault if you get blinded by your own greed sometimes. Not always the most pleasant of creatures."  
  
You supposed you couldn't really argue with that sentiment. Obviously, not all of mankind was so inclined, but you knew enough individuals could be so that the point seemed rather valid. The idea that this heretofore mythical creature had such a grasp on the attitudes of men only added to the positive absurdity of your situation. "Then, if humans are usually a menace to your kind, why would you bother saving me?"  
  
At this, he grinned fully, a sparkle of glee in his eyes as he rolled onto his side to face you, propping one elbow on the rock and resting his cheek to his fist, tail flipping gently out of the water with a subdued splash so that it glistened in the sun again. "You're pretty. And I like pretty things."  
  
"Pretty," you repeated, taken aback. It was rare for you to be accused of being pretty, especially since you started dressing the part of a swab or powder monkey, and learning the rigging had earned you more callouses on your hands than fair skin. But you figured that of all the strange, unimaginable things you've been faced with in the last several minutes, the idea a supposedly magical creature might see past the cropped hair and the dull, salt-stiff clothes to know you for your true gender was the least unreasonable among them. "So, you know I'm a girl, then?"  
  
"You're a girl?!" His sudden exclamation was full of such astonishment you startled again. But you held still as he drew in to peer at you closely, still fearful of his intentions. "I've never seen a human girl that looked like you before. They normally have lots of pretty things with them. Do you have hidden pretty things?"  
  
In a rush of seeming excitement, he began to paw at you wildly. Not painful, but with a childlike insistence, hands tugging at your clothes and turning out pockets and slipping under fabric to brush bare skin and making you gasp at the audacity, until you gripped his wrists and shoved them away from you. "No, no I don't have any pretty things. I had to leave them all behind when I went aboard ship."  
  
"That's no fun," his smile fell into a look of disappointment and sympathy as he slipped from your grasp to press his hands over yours on the rock like he was intent on soothing what he deemed a terrible tragedy of fate. Then, after regarding you a moment, his face brightened. "Everyone deserves pretty things, even humans, and I have much more than I will ever need. I could share some with you."  
  
"I, uh... well, that's very kind of you..." you began, uncertain how best to react to such a sudden change in mood, let alone how to politely decline.  
  
"I'll be right back," he interrupted in great exuberance before quickly rolling off the rock and letting himself fall into the sea below. You were just leaning over to peek after him, when he popped back up again in a sudden surge of water and soaked your face and shirt again. It made you gasp in surprise, but at least he had the decency to look apologetic as he smiled at you. "Stay up here while I'm gone. It's safer."  
  
After you nodded in compliance, he was gone again. This time, no attempt was made to watch after him. Instead, you pulled yourself to the highest point of the rock you could reach comfortably and watched the horizon with your knees drawn up to your chest. Something told you it would prove rather fruitless, but you kept looking just the same. Looking and trying to piece together all the things that had happened in the last handful of hours. Another fruitless venture, you were quite sure. Though the sun had barely shifted, it still felt a long time. Long enough your eyes burned from lack of blinking and you'd begun to wonder if you really had just hallucinated everything, when there was a loud splash to your right once again as the... merman from before emerged from the depths and pulled himself onto the rock below you.  
  
"Good, you're still here," he grinned as he swept the wet strands back from his face. Your earlier assessment of his face being handsome still stood, even if it belonged to a legendary being and not a normal human. Seemed almost fitting, in a way.  
  
You shimmied back down to sit beside him, feeling awkward stationed above him. "You told me to stay."  
  
"Didn't mean you would listen," he countered brightly. With a quick pull of a string and a gentle yank, the satchel detached from his belt and he shook it a little over the side of the rock. There was a muffled tinkling sound as he let excess water drip from the material. "I hope you like what I brought you."  
  
Before you had the chance to try demurring once again, he pressed the bag open over the rock between you to reveal its contents. There was a myriad of little objects, the largest of which was a hand mirror with a single, thin crack along the edge, inlaid with a rose pattern on the back. Something a fine lady or a studious gentleman may have once owned. A pocket watch, no longer ticking and slightly tarnished, water caught between the face and the glass enclosure. A silver key, mostly likely to a storage chest, metal pitted in spots and a broken length of leather still wrapped around the end from where it must have once hung. A sturdy wooden comb with exotic etchings along the handle and down the teeth. A small, wire-rimmed magnifier with intact glass, but a broken handle. And a smattering of gold and silver coins nestled in the mix.  
  
"You have money in here," you asked, finding something odd in the fact he included it among the trinkets.  
  
"Money," was his parroted response while picking up the comb to run through his hair almost absently. When you pointed out the coins, he smiled and nodded before putting the comb back on the pile. "Oh yes. You humans seem to like it, so I thought you might want some. I can't blame you really. They're very bright in the sun."  
  
Cocking an eyebrow at him, you tried to explain. "Well, we don't keep them. We do labor for them, then trade them for food to eat and a place to sleep and other prettier things to own."  
  
"Oh." It didn't look as though he understood. In truth, it seemed likely he didn't much care at all. Yet he pursed his lips to the side in concentration before dropping his shoulders. "That seems strange to me."  
  
"Yes, I suppose it would," you agreed and felt a smile tugging at your lips for the first time in what felt like ages. Why should he understand how human economy works. You were fairly certain humans didn't always understand the hows or whys of it either. Looking back down at the objects laid out before you, you let go of a small sigh. You'd never heard of rules of etiquette when it came to merfolk. "These are all lovely. But I don't have anything to give you in return."  
  
"I told you, everyone deserves pretty things. I'm sharing some of mine," he replied without tearing his eyes from where his fingers sifted through the bag. He still seemed enamored of the items, but you didn't doubt his sincerity in wanting you to have them. There just seemed to be an irresistible pull in him to touch and reexamine each little thing. At one point, you watched him settle the magnifying glass against one eye as he lifted the mirror to make a whole host of faces in the reflection.  
  
Despite the absolute madness of this day, or maybe because of it, you found yourself laughing at the sight of him. No sooner had the noise begun to slip out, then he was putting the trinkets back in the bag and reaching for your throat with unabashed delight in his features. You fell still and silent in shock, but there was no malice in the gentle press of his fingertips along your delicate skin. "Is that something you can give me?"  
  
"What, my laugh," you questioned, barely louder than a breath. You hardly dared breathe, not entirely out of fear, but also because he seemed to be regarding your neck with as much care as the things he had offered up to you. A certain, childlike fascination on his face you didn't want to break out of hand. When he nodded in answer, you gave the slightest shake of your head. "No, I can't give you my laugh like your bag of treasures. It's a sound. I could laugh again, but you can't hold it in your hand. Can... can merfolk give laughter like that?"  
  
"No," he admitted with a bit of sadness, but managed a smile when he dropped his touch from you. "It was worth asking, though. It's like music. It's pretty, but you only have the memory until you hear it again."  
  
You gaped at him a moment, unsure which struck you the most. That he'd equate your laughter with music or that he knew music at all. You settled for the latter in asking "You know about music?"  
  
"I've heard it from your ships and your docks. I like it," he nodded vehemently. There was excitement back in his eyes as he spoke. "It can be little and soft, then big and loud! You humans are almost as good as whales."  
  
"Whales," you scoffed with a skeptical air. You couldn't fathom whales playing instruments and holding concerts down in the water.  
  
"Yes," he chuckled as though you were silly for not knowing. "You've never heard whale song before?"  
  
You shook your head slowly, still suspicious of him, though it had not occurred to you that by music, he might include plain singing. He only shrugged in a somewhat haughty air. "Just as well. I don't think humans can hear all the sounds they make, anyway. There are some tones that are even hard for us to make out from too far away."  
  
"What's this? A defect in the otherwise absolute perfection that is merfolk," you huffed as you folded your arms over your chest. It might have been a mind-boggling conundrum of a day, but even you had your limit of underhanded insults about your very species from a man with the tail of a fish. Your little show of dissatisfaction did nothing to irritate your companion. Instead, he only smiled wide and dazzling at you, as if impressed by your sarcastic volley. It proved impossible to stay angry with an expression that bright turned on you. Giving in, you dropped your hands back to the rock on either side of you. "Do you sing, then?"  
  
"Seems a dangerous question to ask." He raised an eyebrow at you, a devious sort of smirk tilting his mouth, but you were surprised to find a tease in his voice. "Considering you think we lure sailors to their deaths."  
  
You snorted at him only to be met with another soft chuckle. Not knowing what else to do, and feeling suddenly very self-conscious under his scrutiny, you grabbed the mirror and the small comb from the pile and started to work at the tangles in your hair. It had been quite some time since you'd bothered with how you looked, having chopped off most of your long tresses before you stepped foot on a ship. Combed your fingers through it and a wash and delouse now and again, but never even bothering with your reflection. Now you were snagging the wooden teeth in a matted, salt-crusted mess and wincing at the pain. A moment later, the impossible creature at your side gently pulled the comb from your hand. When you looked over at him, he offered a small grin before he took up with the comb where you left off. No protest was given as you pivoted slightly, granting him full access to your hair. It was strange, but comforting in a way. The silent fussing of someone else's hands at your scalp was a luxury you vaguely remembered from your childhood. But soon the quiet was broken by a loud rumble in your stomach.  
  
"You're hungry," he stated rather than asked. There was a tinge of disappointment to his voice, as if berating himself for not thinking of it sooner. Pressing the comb back into your hand, he gathered up the small bag of items and shoved them further up the rock, out of the way. "I'll go get you food."  
  
Turning toward him, you had just enough time to see him lower himself tail first into the water. He paused long enough to pat the warm surface beneath you with a serious look. "Remember what I said. Safe."  
  
Then he was gone, not waiting for you to reply or even acknowledge his statement. A small part of you had wanted to ask him to stay and finish your hair first. It wasn't like you had never endured a bit of hunger before. The companionship, though admittedly odd, had been a deeper craving you hadn't known you possessed. You blamed years of living lies and the soothing smile and bright eyes of a being that you never thought existed in this world, itself perhaps a product of a fever dream, of lungs breathing salt instead of air. Still, the little parcel of trinkets seemed real enough. You busied yourself with finishing your hair; a much less calming affair without assistance. Then, you turned your attention to the bag and its contents. The pocket watch was unsalvageable, at least as far as your knowledge of them went. But the little magnifier proved a decent distraction. It was not very strong, nowhere near a spyglass, but when you grew tired of scanning the horizon, you focused on the island and were able to make out some details. No signs of life, human anyway, but plenty of trees and brush, the promise of shade and fresh water making your cracking lips ache.  
  
A sound of something gliding just under the water's surface signaled what you hoped was the merman's return. Sure enough, when you peeked over, you caught sight of him circling around to the front of the rock. Instead of picking himself up to sit beside you, he slid up to the section just above the smallest of the waves. There were two fish in his hand that you could make out where he kept them beneath the foam while he shook his head and tossed it back to clear his hair from his eyes. It surprised you somewhat when he reached for the dagger at his waist, showing sharpened stone instead of metal for a blade. Then, with little ceremony, he plopped one fish, a wrasse, onto the rock and plunged the dagger through its head swiftly, before it even had a chance to flop or gasp for water. That one he tossed in your direction, which you caught on instinct, while he did the same with the mullet that remained in his hand.  
  
You stared a moment at the wriggling fish in your hands, throes of death still causing its muscles to twitch violently despite your firm grip, waiting to see what the merman planned to do next. The dagger cleaned of blood by the waves, it was returned to its sheath while his own fish twisted a few more seconds. Then, you watched in amazement, and a small amount of horror, as he took the fish in both hands and sank his teeth directly into the side of the thing. Tearing out a chunk of flesh sent blood down his chin that he seemed unconcerned by. Only happily munched at his mouthful before taking another bite. At this point, one hand disappeared under the waves to pull out a strand of seaweed which he slurped into his mouth like a noodle until his cheeks were full and puffed out. He pulled another piece from beneath him and turned as though about to offer it to you, but paused when your eyes met. His gaze fell from you to the fish still laying in your hands as his brow furled, expression somewhat concerned despite his overfilled mouth. A thought seemed to have dawned on him and he wet his arm in the water before swiping at the blood on his face, seeming to suddenly realize it was an impoliteness that needed remedy. His attention turned back to you expectantly as his jaws worked in earnest.  
  
"I... I can't eat this," you finally spoke, tilting your chin at the fish in your hand. "I have to cook it first."  
  
Confusion overtook your companion's face, chewing slowing down until he gave a large swallow. His tongue darted out over his lips in search of any stray bits, licking up the remaining blood that had collected at the corners. "Cook?"  
  
"Yes, cook. With fire," you ventured. The small hope of his understanding was dashed when his face screwed up worse and he tilted his head to one side, lost at what you were saying. "If I don't cook this, it could kill me."  
  
This information seemed to stun him. His expression changed to that of mild worry as he took another, much smaller bite of his meal. There was a thoughtfulness in the deliberate way he chewed, staring off at nothing while he processed your words. After another quick swallow, he looked up at you again with compassion in his eyes. "How do we find you this... fire?"  
  
You breathed a sigh of relief. Even if he didn't understand what you were saying, at least he was willing to help you. "Do you see that island over there?"  
  
"There's fire there," he asked after a quick glance to where you had pointed. A certain wondrous curiosity had invaded his demeanor and there was something quite endearing about it.  
  
"No, but I could try to make fire there. Some of the pretty things you brought me can help," you replied with a motion toward the bag he'd left for you. The news of this made him preen a little, obviously proud of himself for proving helpful where he had least expected. He munched happily on another small bite of his catch, eyes on you with rapt attention now. "Do you think you could get me to the island?"  
  
"Yes, I can get you there," he nodded vehemently, licking his lips once more. He reached a hand out, webbed fingers splayed open and wiggling slightly in anticipation. "Give me the pretty things and your fish."  
  
Moving to comply, you gathered the trinkets back in the bag and handed them over. He took a moment to lash the satchel, your fish, and the remainder of his meal to the belt before slipping down into the water. Yet, when you tried to follow him, he lifted a hand with a raised brow and a shake of his head, pausing you in your tracks. "You can't go with all those heavy things on. You're not strong enough. Take them off."  
  
"You mean my clothes," you gasped, scandalized at the thought and gripping your coat lapels tightly. When he nodded, you squared your shoulders at him in defiance. "I'm going to need them."  
  
"I'll come back for them and bring them to you," he assured while bobbing gently with the waves. "I'm strong, but it was difficult enough last night pulling you this far against the current. It will only get worse and you might not survive going under again."  
  
"I'm not swimming naked," you protested despite the truth of his words. It seemed a fairly silly thing to argue about. Swimming naked was hardly unheard of where you were from, especially when there were no other prying eyes, but you weren't exactly alone there. "It makes me uncomfortable."  
  
"Why," he questioned, reasonably enough. "I'm the only one here and I'm not wearing clothes."  
  
You huffed and folded your arms across your chest. "That's different. You don't wear clothes at all."  
  
"That's because they are bad for swimming," he countered, gliding closer with barely a flick of his tail until he was at the edge of the rock once more. "Now, do you want fire or not?"  
  
Growling under your breath, you tugged your boots off angrily and shoved them higher up to keep out of the water. The overcoat, sashes, belt... everything else joined the pile until you were stood on shaky legs in nothing but your flowing shirt and trousers. With your fists anchored at your hips, you looked down at him. A silent, irritated question to see if it were enough. You weren't expecting him to reach up and press his hand over your foot and up your ankle, testing at the fabric curiously until he was stretching the hem of your shirt.  
  
"This will work, if it makes you feel better," he stated with a magnanimous nod before swimming off several yards away. Once stopped, he turned back and motioned for you to jump in after him. You supposed this was the moment of truth; whether you trusted a creature you'd heard terrible stories about to not send you head first into jagged stones and your ultimate demise. He seemed to sense your apprehension and offered a reassuring smile by way of coaxing. A deep breath to fill your lungs and you launched yourself into the water below.  
  
There were no hazards awaiting you beneath the churning surface of the sea. Instead there was a circular expanse flanked almost entirely by rocky spires save a wedge the filtered toward the island. You could see now why your companion had always returned on roughly the same side, most likely slipping through the small space just under the rock where he'd perched you. The glint of his tail caught your attention, propelling him closer to you as you swam in his direction. Admittedly, the graceful approach, the elegant, fluid movement of his body struck you still for a second or two. He was watching you closely, though, no doubt concerned about your strength beneath the water. Your lungs didn't hurt quite as much as you expected and you decided to continue on under your own power as long as you dared. The sleek sea creature circled around you, slipping out of view for a short time before reappearing beneath you, face up so you could see the mischievous smile on his lips. This concerned you, making your heart beat faster and causing you to falter. His cheeks puffed up large before a series of bubbles erupted from his mouth, obscuring your vision and forcing you toward the surface.  
  
You broke into the air with a sputtering cough, desperate to breathe normal. A moment later, he surfaced beneath you so that you were draped slightly across his back. Clutching at his shoulder for support, you eventually stuttered out "W-why would you do that?"  
  
"It's not good to push yourself," he answered while maneuvering until you rested fully against him. "Just hold onto me, pretty thing. I'll get you there."  
  
And without another word on the subject, he took off in the direction of the island. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and your face pressed to the back of his neck.  
  
\---  
  
"Hey! Hey, are you awake yet?"  
  
A voice began pulling you from sleep mere moments before a gush of water splashed over you, shocking you upright. Gasping, you spun back and forth to check your surroundings. A lonely beach, the remnants of a cooking fire and fish bones, some of your outer garments spread across the sand to dry. You were on the little island still. A small pool of fresh water had been found among the trees to quench your thirst and you'd managed a fire to eat and keep warm. It hadn't been a dream. Another rush of water against the back of your head made you turn in that direction. Apparently, your mythical companion had been no dream either.  
  
He sat aways from you on the sand, so that the waves rushed over his tail. His large fin was cocked up, filled with water, no doubt the origin of your rude awakening. A smile spread across his face, blue-gray eyes dancing with a bit of merriment as he tucked his shimmering tail beneath himself to sit up. "There you are! I brought more food for you!"  
  
You had half a mind to chastise him for his behavior. It was hardly necessary to soak you to the bone to wake you. However, upon further reflection, you realized it was a rather pointless endeavor. Obviously, he meant no ill will in the action. In truth, it was a great kindness he was doing you, providing for you when you could not for yourself. Your shipmates had left you to the mercy of the sea, and here it was in the form of a fantastical creature with a handsome face and a friendly, boyish charm that was nigh on entrancing at times. You were starting to believe some of the tales the old sailors told about merfolk by that smile alone.  
  
"Good morning," you called back to him before shaking your head at the silliness of it. "I have to make a fire first."  
  
He nodded in understanding, pulling his dagger from its sheath and bending to reach under the churning water. There must have been fish down there, awaiting the same fate as the ones from yesterday. You didn't waste time finding out. Instead, you went off to the brush to gather what you needed to cook. By the time you returned and made the fire, there were two mullets tossed up the beach by where you had been sleeping. Both were still cool and damp from the water, but no longer twitched in the sand. The merman had perched on a rock not far from you and seemed to be watching intently as you worked, tail bending back and forth in an idle fashion. He was chewing slowly on some seaweed with two more dead mullets lashed to his belt.  
  
A meal shared seemed far more desirable than staring at each other across the distance. Thus, once you were satisfied with the cooking of your fish, you moved over to where he sat and tried climbing up beside him. It was no easy task with one hand occupied, but your presence seemed to please him and he leaned over to help you up. Finally situated fairly comfortably, you began to bite into the catch he'd brought you. He offered some of the seaweed in his hand, of which you took a bit between your fingers while giving him a nod of appreciation. There was an odd sort of pride in his expression before pulling at one of his own mullets. It had been there the night before when you eventually got the fire going and cooked off the wrasse. Perhaps it was that of a job well done. Of being able to provide for someone in need. Whatever it was, it seemed a very human thing indeed and made you wonder just how many similarities there may be between you.  
  
"Thank you again," you finally said after easing some of the emptiness in your belly. "For the fish and for saving me."  
  
For his part, your companion, who had been taking great care not to make a mess of his food again, wiped diligently at his chin and licked his lips clean before he spoke. Though, truth be told, you were far less put off by it this second day. "No trouble, really. Besides, I much prefer a single human to a whole ship full of them. Especially a pretty one I can share pretty things with."  
  
"Your kindness and generosity are astounding," was your quiet reply, hiding your face behind another bite. Compliments weren't really a common thing for you in those days, let alone from the stuff of legend that had tales told of their remarkable beauty.  
  
"Better than the stories you humans tell, hmm," your companion ventured with a gentle tease in his voice that caught you somewhat off guard.  
  
"Oh yes, much better than I've been told," you laughed. The sound drew his rapt attention, reminding you of his odd request the day before. "At least, a single merman is."  
  
This response seemed to elate him, causing him to grin wide and chuckle pleasantly. A sound and expression far more deserving of admiration than yours, you felt. Though, a thought occurred to you then that you really had been considering him more as a creature than anything else. But it stood to reason that if he could talk and think and have a vivid personality no less, then he probably had his own identity. It shamed you to know it took so long for you to reflect on that. "Forgive me for not asking before, there's been quite a lot to take in this last day, but do you have a name? Something to call you aside from just 'merman.'"  
  
"Of course I have a name," he answered, quite amused. "But it's not in any human tongue. You'd never be able to pronounce it. Maybe not even hear parts of it."  
  
You arched an eyebrow at him curiously. "You mean to say, the way you speak with me isn't your original language? You learned to speak human?"  
  
"It was fairly easy. Nowhere near as complicated as ours, or even dolphin or whale," he shrugged, stuffing his mouth with a length of seaweed to chew. After a quick swallow, he added "You only need to pay attention for long enough, just like little ones do."  
  
The revelation was astonishing to you. To have learned a goodly part of a language just by overhearing it seemed wholly amazing to you. Of course, he was right that children do the same. And many people could speak many languages, but they tended to at least have lots of practice or schooling to refine it. Judging from his attitude toward humans, he was not in the habit of conversing with many at all. If you had not thought him intelligent in his own right before, you most certainly did now. Even if there was some sort of magic at play in it.  
  
"Well it won't do for me to always call you 'merman.' The sum of you is more than that I'd wager. How about we give you a human name for me to use," you insisted while setting the remains of your meal aside on the rock for the moment. He seemed to take great interest in this and mirrored your gesture in a way by throwing the carcass of his fish back into the water below. "You said you liked music, yes? We could name you after a composer. There's Vivaldi, Bach, Handel..."  
  
"Who do you like," he interrupted, a quizzical tilt to his head as he regarded you.  
  
It took a moment of consideration until you replied with “They’re all very fine composers, but I suppose I have a preference for Johann Sebastian Bach from when I was a little girl.”  
  
“Bach,” your companion nodded thoughtfully. “What music did Bach make?”  
  
“Oh, well, he made quite a bit of music. I rather like his Minuet in G Major,” you answered with a smile and saw his brow furrow just slightly, as if to urge you on. You chuckled under your breath at the unabashed curiosity that shone from his face, slipping your tongue out to wet your lips well.  
  
Whistling, you had been told on several occasions, was considered rude for a young woman to partake in. And it was generally looked down upon when traveling on sea-going vessels. Yet, you had always been fond of it, practicing in secret when you could find the time. It seemed well worth the effort now, when you began to recreate the notes of the song in question, seeing your companion’s eyes grow wide and his back straighten in a comical surprise. A laugh threatened to waver your task, but you persisted. Soon, there was a sparkle in the merman’s eyes, a toothy grin splitting his face as he leaned closer to you. His attention was focused solely on your pursed lips, seemingly drawn to the sounds you were creating. The feel of his cool fingers brushing your chin startled you into stopping, which momentarily cast his features in a sad disappointment. A heartbeat passed and the expression faded to a gentle smile.  
  
“Pretty,” he breathed quietly before pulling back to his original position. “Yes, name me after him.”  
  
“After Bach,” you mused while folding your hands in your lap to quell the minor tremble. “Bach sounds too… too harsh for you. Johann, then?”  
  
His nose crinkled, the corners of his lips turning down in childish disgust. “No. Too plain. Sebastian. That could belong to the water.”  
  
“Sebastian it is. And quite pretty too,” you nodded in agreement and picked up the fish you had set aside.  
  
The merman, newly dubbed Sebastian, squared his shoulders in satisfaction, a look of smug magnificence on his face. This did not last long before he broke into a soft laugh, the delight clearly evident in his blue-gray eyes as he pulled more seaweed from his belt to offer you. “Now, you have a name to call me. What do I call you?”  
  
It had been a rather long time since you’d thought about your own name. There was the one you were given at birth and the one you took on when you went to sea. You gave him both and explained a little of why there were two. Strangely, this didn’t seem to confuse him in the slightest. He only repeated both names several times, as if tasting them on his tongue like the seaweed you both chewed at.  
  
“Both names seem fine,” Sebastian finally stated after swallowing his mouthful. “But they don’t fit you.”  
  
“Really,” you snorted through a smirk before casting the bones of your meal into the sea. “I suppose if I had to give you a new name, then you could give me a new name.”  
  
He seemed to consider this a moment. The great tail of his swished and bent, flicking little droplets up from the waves that were encroaching. A sly little grin quirked his lips when he looked back at you. “I’d rather call you the pretty thing you are.”  
  
You barely had a chance to process his words before he heaved the fin of his tail up and splashed seawater across you. It made you gasp loudly, launching yourself at him mindlessly in retaliation, though it was just meant with as much playfulness as his action. But he quickly evaded you with a deep, loud cackle to dive off the rock to the swelling tide, the silvery streak of his scales a fleeting, arcing glint in the air. You crept to the edge of the rock and found him just resurfacing. He shook the water from his face and smoothed his hair back to beam up at you, too infectious to keep your glare for long.  
  
“You are a scoundrel, sir,” you accused through barely tempered amusement.  
  
This only served to fuel his mischievousness further. He ducked his chin, filling his mouth, and made to spit the water up at you. Yet, you were just quick enough to scrabble away, avoiding a face full of salty sea. The sounds of more splashing drew you back only to discover your companion swimming away. It made your heart sink somewhat.  
  
“Sebastian,” you called out and were glad when he gracefully spun onto his back to face you at the sound of his new name. “Where are you going?”  
  
“I found more things while you slept and I want to show you. Don’t worry. I’ll be back,” he reassured, rolling onto his belly and disappearing under the waves.  
  
\---  
  
And so it went much the same for days. A week or more perhaps. It was becoming difficult to know exactly how long. Every morning you were met with Sebastian’s smiling face at the water’s edge. He would bring you food and show you the new little trinkets he found. Apparently, he salvaged these things from sunken ships or near the shore where things were lost or discarded out of hand. A majority of them were shiny objects, but some had intricate patterns or interesting colors. Most of the days were spent talking and you soon learned quite a bit more about merfolk than you ever expected, just as you were sure he learned more about humans. As you grew stronger, at least according to him, Sebastian gifted you with a little dagger that matched his own and took you beneath the waves for short times to introduce you to vast gardens of seaweed and small mollusks clinging to nearby rocks that you could add to your diet. These times were as playful as any with the carefree way he often blew bubbles or water rings as he circled you. It was a strange company and soon you grew to see him more as a friend. A closer one than you’d probably ever had before.  
  
One night, a great storm blew in, waking you from your sleep and forcing you under the nearby canopy of trees. You should have anticipated its approach long before it arrived, but for honesty’s sake, you would still have been loath to leave the familiarity of your little stretch of beach. The wind was lashing and the rain ice on your skin. You huddled inside your overcoat for as much warmth as possible, a large part of you wishing you could be safe under the water like you assumed Sebastian would be. But a longing peek at the churning sea revealed a swoop of a large tail, flashing silvery-blue in the flashes of lightning. It was gone a few moments before returning closer to the shore line. Sebastian’s head emerged, seeming to frantically search the beach where you normally slept, an expression of deep concern on his face. It lessened when he caught sight of you in the tree line and raised his webbed hand high above the raging waves. You returned the gesture to let him know you were there and as well as could be hoped for. After a nod and a last long look, he disappeared once again.  
  
The storm subsided sometime before dawn. A lull or two in the thunder had granted you a few measly moments of sleep here and there throughout the night, but you awoke to calm waters and the first rays of golden light on the horizon. Stiff and cramped from hiding beneath your coat, you stumbled out of the trees to find clumps of debris and driftwood dotting the beach. And, to your relief, the familiar merman perched on his favorite rock the two of you often frequented. He was staring out at the rising sun, the rays of which made the scales of this tail and the drops and rivulets of water across his muscular body glisten in the dimness of the hour, the ornate little comb between his fingers raking absently through dark hair. Your approach drew his attention and, at the sight of you, an easy smile crossed his lips.  
  
“I’m glad you’re safe,” he said gently as he helped you up to sit beside him. “I should have told you about the storm. I sometimes forget how terrible they can be on land.”  
  
“It’s alright,” you reassured, smoothing at your own hair and rumpled clothes. The look on his face was pure chagrin and you couldn’t bear for it to stay. In a jovial tone, you added “When I saw you just now, I half expected to hear you sing something enchanting.”  
  
Sebastian gave a laughing scoff, shaking his head at you before leaning in conspiratorially. “The truth? I like singing, but there's no magic in mine."  
  
"Oh? Then what magic do you use to lure ships full of men to their deaths on the rocks," was your teasing response.  
  
"My tail, of course," he played along with a quick flick of the appendage, slashing his fin through the water.  
  
"Magical and beautiful," you chuckled, which earned that wide, well-pleased smile from him. You watched him swish the tail around a few more times, glittering in the growing sunlight, and you couldn't help but admire it. "Sebastian, it may be forward of me, but might I touch your glorious tail? I mean no harm, I swear."  
  
The movement stopped abruptly, apprehension coloring his face as he looked upon you. It was a surprise to see so quick and large a shift in his demeanor. He pulled in his lower lip to worry at while his gaze flickered from you to his tail and back again. You were about to apologize for upsetting him, when he slowly wrapped his cool fingers around your wrist and moved your hand to rest against his scales. Trying not to gawk proved a bit difficult, but you did your best to keep your interest subdued for fear of startling him in the delicate quiet between you. The scales were smooth beneath your touch, the ones close to his waist nearly as wide as your palm and tapering down to smaller, finer ones near his fins. Your fingertips came upon a scar that etched through a few rows, but in the spirit of politeness, you pulled your hand away.  
  
"Absolutely remarkable," you breathed, looking back up into his eyes, now a deep gray without the sun and bright blue sea to reflect in them. His features had cleared by then and he fixed you once more with open friendliness. "Where did you get all your scars?"  
  
"Scars," he questioned with that curious tilt of his head that spoke of wanting to better understand. You gestured toward the one most readily visible and he nodded with an amused sigh. "Some are from hunting food. A few from moving in and out of sunken ships. But most are from carelessly getting too close to humans."  
  
You gaped at him for a long heartbeat, only able to imagine the things that might have happened to him. "If you keep getting hurt, why do you keep getting close?"  
  
"Humans definitely have their bad side, but when they make pretty things like you, how can I resist," Sebastian replied in a lilting voice as he picked up the comb to run through the tangles of your hair.  
  
"And the things you find beautiful are worth getting hurt over," you snorted in disbelief, but moved closer to allow him easier access to your locks.  
  
A slick hand smoothed over your jaw, bringing you around to look at his face, indulgent and kind. "The right sort of beautiful always is."  
  
You gave him a gentle huff, but could not resist your urge to press your lips to his cheek in a chaste kiss. Merfolk magic, you had no doubt. He seemed quite astonished when you pulled away, causing you to snicker softly. "I suppose merfolk don't have kissing."  
  
"No, we do," he assured with a nod and a toothy grin. "I've just never been kissed by a human before."  
  
"Then you should feel honored. For I've never kissed a merman before," you countered brightly. It was rewarded with an delighted laugh as you turned back to let him finishing grooming you.  
  
\---  
  
You could not say exactly how long you were on the small island. Days bled together with nothing to mark or distinguish them outside your interactions with Sebastian. Your hair had grown longer, your clothes worn and tattered. The vault of stars at night had shifted along with the wind and a change in season seemed imminent. No ships could be seen on the horizon, though the magnifier provided precious little assistance in the scouting. And your friend, eager as he was to make you smile and keep you fed, spoke no word of seeking help for you rescue.

“Sebastian,” you finally asked one day in the dying light of evening. The two of you sat on the rock that had become a dining room and parlor in one, sharing a handful of seaweed. Firelight flickered against his face and illuminated his tail and the small, shiny objects from his latest scavenge he brought to show you. A particularly chilly breeze had blown across your damp clothes, reminding you of the oncoming winter. “Have you seen ships passing by when you go out searching for these things?”

His wide smile dimmed, crease forming between his brows as he looked at you and set down the dented goblet he’d been admiring. “One or two. Why?”

So, it was as you feared. Placing your hand over his, you reminded yourself that he had no ill-will in his heart. “Because, my friend, I… I can’t stay here. You can’t keep me like one of the pretty things you scavenge.”

“Why can’t I,” he implored quietly, wetness in his eyes that shone from the flames. “Don’t I bring you enough food, keep you safe, make you happy? Why do you want to leave?”

“Oh, Sebastian, you do all of those things. I’ve never met a kinder, more wonderful person than you in all my life,” you admitted with a smile meant to ease him some. It broke your heart to see such sadness in his features, when you’d become accustomed to that cheerful, friendly grin that came so readily to him. “But it will grow cold soon, colder than my small fires can protect me from, and I could die.”

“Die,” he repeated, barely above a whisper, as he shook his head faintly.

“Yes, die. Merfolk have no need for buildings and houses, the sea keeps you warm, but humans… I do, Sebastian. I could become sick or even just fall asleep and never wake up again,” you tried to explain gently.

But for the first time in all the days you’d known him, his voice held an edge less than pleasant, tail twitching in agitation. “And these things don’t happen on land?”

“They can, but where there are people, there are medicines and places to stay out of the cold. It isn’t as likely. I have none of that here,” you answered with a squeeze of his hand. “Surely even your kind suffer disease and illness.”

“We can be killed,” Sebastian replied, eyes darting momentarily to a small scar at his side. “But we rarely grow sick or old and just… stop being.”

“Then, you didn’t know it could happen to a human,” you asked sympathetically. There had been so many things the two of you discussed on the beach, so many differences, but at no point had the subject turned to death.

A forlorn expression crossed Sebastian’s face and he bowed his head while taking both your hands in his. “I did know. I just didn’t want to believe it with you.”

It was a touching, sorrowful tone in his voice. You squeezed his fingers in your own, measly consolation, but all you could think to offer in the silent moment. Soon, his touch slid from yours, gathering up the items strewn across the rock beside you. When his eyes finally met yours again, he tried to seem brighter, but there was a smear of red at his lashes and you were ashamed to know you’d brought such a magnificent creature to tears. “I’ll bring you food now. I won’t be long.”

“Wait,” you called after him, reaching a hand in his direction, but he dove into the water, a glimmer of blue and silver in the dancing firelight.

You remained on the rock a few moments longer, feeling your own tears begin to well. Hurting him had never been your intention, yet here you were all the same. With a harsh scrub across your face, you buried a sob into the crook of your arm and sniffled against the threadbare fabric at your elbow. It surprised you, then, to feel a wet hand grasp your ankle gently. Looking down, you saw Sebastian peeking out of the water, his touch soothing across your calf and down your foot, with a coaxing smirk on his face that nearly reached his sad eyes. When you managed to return a quivering smile of your own, he slipped back into the dark sea.

\---

Three or four days later, that much you were able to discern, you were awoken by a distant, but recognizable sound. It pulled you from your sleep in a grudging, insistent way that cloyed at you. When you were finally sat up and opening your eyes to early morning sun, you realized exactly what you were hearing. A ship’s bell. Countless times you’d been dragged from bed or called to duty on the half hour, now an ingrained response to the distinct clanging. Standing, you held your hand against the glare of the sun on the sparkling waves to see a ship standing tall not far from the outcropping you had woken on. A stately looking vessel with a two man rower halfway between it and your little beach, headed in your direction. You made to raise your hands, wave them down in your elation, but you were struck by a sudden heaviness in your heart.

You scanned the beach, searching for any sign of your companion, finally lighting on a flash of silvery-blue disappearing behind the familiar rock. Without hesitation, you followed around in the opposite direction, until you could see Sebastian hiding in its shadow, waves lapping up the length of his tail. This made no matter to you, throwing yourself on your knees before him in the wet and stony sand.

“Sebastian,” you croaked out, chest tight and aching as you looked on his handsome face. “Someone’s come.”

“I brought them for you,” he informed with a sorrowful smile. His teeth worried along his lower lip while his hand reached to cover yours beneath the foamy water that surrounded you. “I watched the ship awhile. The crew seem good and there are other women aboard, being taken from one port to another. They should be able to take you back to land.”

Fingers slipping between his, pressing gentle against the fine webbing there, you clutched at him as fiercely as if you might be drowning all over again. “H-how did you bring them here? They haven’t hurt you, have they?”

“I told you before, it’s magic,” was his shaky reply, trying to warm his grin to no avail. His hand pulled from yours to reach for the little satchel on his belt, heavy and jangling. “I brought you these… these coins. They help on land, you said. You might have a better use for them than me.”

He pressed the bag into your hands with that same coaxing smirk you’d grown fond of. It broke your resolve then, the generosity and the sweetness all too much. You knew you had to go and so did he, but you couldn’t help the tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Thank you, Sebastian,” you sobbed and though you may have sounded the blubbering idiot, there was no reeling in how overcome with sadness you were at the imminent parting. “Thank you a thousand times over. I owe you more than just my gratitude, but my life. I don’t know how I could ever repay you, merman. My sweetest friend.”

Ducking your head, you tried to hide the sight of your crying, but slick fingers touched your cheek and jaw, guiding your attention back to him. The look on his face was that of concern, uncertainty, brows pinched together as he regarded you. With a swipe of his tongue across his lips, he reached back under the waves. You watched, sniffling against your emotions and rubbing harshly at your cheeks, as he gave a wince before turning back to you. In his hand was a scale about the length of your thumb, the same gray and shining silver-blue of his tail. He held it out to you expectantly, a quiet plea in his eyes you couldn’t understand. When you made no move to take it, truthfully staring at the scale and his face in a mixture of confusion and distress that he’d hurt himself, he lowered his gaze as though suffering a defeat.

“I sometimes forget you don’t know everything about us,” he spoke in a bittersweet tone, trying to smile once more. Taking your hand, he sat the scale in your palm and folded your fingers around it tightly, holding your clenched fist between both his palms. “Take it. It’s good luck. It will keep you safe.”

You nodded, pressing your fist over your heart, hoping he understood how much you would cherish the item. “Sebastian, I…”

But you were interrupted when he surged forward, staying the trembling of your lips with his own in a kiss softer than the breeze. His fingers held your face delicately, like the precious items he pulled from the depths, before leaning away. Your instinct was to follow, but then your eyes grew round in surprise as you gazed up at him. He only let out an amused huff as his thumbs traced at your cheeks.

“I told you we kissed too,” Sebastian breathed gently and you could only try to laugh through your sobbing as he pressed another kiss to your forehead, droplets of water dancing on his lashes above red-rimmed eyes. “Goodbye, pretty thing. Live a long and happy life.”

You wanted to say something, anything, wanted to throw yourself into him, follow him into the sea, but the loud slapping of the oars against the water drew your attention and your face from his touch. Frantic fear that Sebastian might be seen and hurt washed over you. But turning back to urge him to hide, you found him gone. The last glimpse of him was the flash of a silvery tail and a webbed hand disappearing into the waves.

\---

The two crewmen who found you racked with sobs on the beach tried to give you an awkward sort of consoling, presumably unaccustomed to the sadness of strange women in men’s clothing and more than likely thinking you overcome with joy for having been rescued. On the way back to the ship, they asked no questions. The women onboard, three in all and on their way to a small seaside village to see their aging aunt and uncle, immediately disregarded the frowns of their chaperon and bustled you below decks. Even as they very kindly cleaned and fed and clothed you with their own provisions, they did not ask any questions beyond your name and your family. But when you were brought before the captain of the ship, an appropriately stern looking man with an appropriately stern voice to accompany it that prompted you to stand to attention and set aside the pain in your heart, and he asked no real questions of how you came upon the island or the bag of gold and silver coins, you began to wonder if the scale you gripped so tightly really did grant you the good luck and protection your previous companion claimed. After being dismissed from the captain’s quarters with an oddly knowing look, just before the door closed behind you, you overheard his aide whisper something about mermaids only to be harshly rebuffed. The women found you crying minutes later and quickly ushered you back to their cabin.

Landfall was made a week later in a tiny port town. The captain begrudgingly took a few coins from you as thanks for your safe passage. As did the women when they left for their destination, though they tried to insist you accompany them. When you respectfully declined, but thanked them for such courtesies, they gifted you some articles of clothing, all a size too big, but wearable, so that you had something to restart your life with. And restart you had to. You had been well-fed and cared for on that little island and no longer looked like the reedy boy you played. Cutting your hair and larger unshapely clothes might have worked again, but the memory of that comb running through the strands prevented such consideration for long.

Instead, you found a room to rent in the town. You had always lived by the sea and could not think of being far from it now, but with no real home to return to, it seemed as good a place as any. There was a boarding house that catered to the wives and children of sailors. It hardly felt like a lie when you told the proprietor your husband was at sea for an indefinite amount of time. Thus, you had a warm place to live, easily paid for with the money you’d been given. Though, to fill your days and not raise suspicions, you took a job at a local tavern. Strange to live as a woman again, though the rowdy men hardly fazed you and seemed to have either the decency or foresight not to become too bothersome to you. Perhaps another benefit of the silvery scale you kept wrapped and tied around your neck so that it always rested over your heart.

It was nearly two months after your return to land that you heard the word mermaid again. You had taken to walking along the docks among the bustling traders, the familiarity soothing you in a way. A ship’s bell still sometimes drew your attention, welling a certain bittersweet feeling in your chest. On this day, you were out for your regular stroll when you came upon an old, weathered sailor sitting along the path, surrounded mostly by children and a few adult travelers as well. It was a fond memory of yours from when you were younger, old men telling tales for extra coin while their ships were docked.

You barely gave it any notice until you heard a little girl gleefully cry “Tell us a story of mermaids!”

The pang in your chest nearly doubled you. It almost leapt into your throat to correct the term to merfolk, but you stayed quiet as you moved to join the small gathering. The sailor smiled kindly at you, no doubt in hopes of garnering a few extra coins for the gesture, before turning his attention to the girl.

“And what sort of story would you have, little miss,” he asked in an indulgent, jovial tone, a seasoned storyteller if ever you heard. “How they lure ships to the rocks with their singing? The fantastic treasures they guard from pirates? The vast underwater gardens they grow?”

“Magic,” the girl breathed in awe, eyes sparkling. “Tell us about mermaid magic.”

“Magic,” the old sailor chuckled with a wink to the people surrounding him. “I might have known.”

This garnered a tittering amongst the small crowd. All, but you. You had been struck by the memory of that merman with his little trinkets, broken things few would appreciate. The sight of him on the rock in the early dawn combing his hair. The cache of seaweed he always shared with you. It tightened in your throat and you had to bite back tears as you listened to the man continue.

“You should know that I have it on good authority, little one, that the most magical part of all is the mermaid’s tail. Especially, her scales,” the storyteller informed as though imparting a great secret. And in truth, it nearly felt that way to you; your hand moving to absently cover the scale hidden beneath layers of clothing. “They have their own magic, these scales, and are highly coveted by people all over the world. Kings would give their kingdoms for a mermaid scale and the powers it holds. But hardly anyone ever tries to seek one. Do you know why?”

Of course the little girl shook her head, entirely enthralled by the story you doubted she even remembered so many others were listening. The man nodded soberly, drawing out the tension as he rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. “It’s because to steal a mermaid’s scale, even in exchange for a kingdom, isn’t worth the terrible consequences. The loss of even just one precious piece turns her into a wretched old sea witch with the powers of the storms at her command. And she hunts and haunts the thief and takes everything he holds dear until his dying day.”

The little girl gasped in fear, perhaps a few other listeners did as well, before hiding her gaping mouth behind her tiny hands. “But… but what if the mermaid gave him her scale?”

“Well, that is a fine rarity, indeed,” he replied with an amused look. “If she were to give a scale, then that man would have nothing but good fortune and happy days for the rest of his life. But there is love in giving away something so dear, and with love there is sacrifice. You see, a mermaid is forever young and beautiful so long as she has all her scales. They protect her with their magic. But giving one away means she loses that immortality and can grow old and die, just like we here on land do.”

It was your turn to gasp, though you caught it with a hand across your lips, feeling the tears starting to well in your eyes at the tale. Surely, this couldn’t be true. A merman himself had told you that few people got their stories right. Yet, the words weighed heavily on you. The expectant, pleading look he gave you flashed through your mind. The wince when he plucked the scale. It was difficult to keep your composure around the people beside you.

“What if he gives the scale back,” a boy asked, obviously quite taken in by the telling and perhaps himself a bit concerned for the fictional mermaid judging from the distressed set to his eyes.

“Now, that is one thing I can’t say for certain, young fellow. I’ve never heard tale of someone with a mermaid scale ever giving it back,” the sailor informed in a sorrowful tone. Then he reached out to ruffle the boy’s hair familiarly. “But maybe a strapping lad like you will find out one day.”

The boy and the crowd all chuckled pleasantly and applauded, save you again, of course. For your part, you tossed a few coins into the man’s cap and rushed off, mind a-flurry with recollections from your conversations with Sebastian. Trying to decide if there could be any truth to what the old storyteller said. It plagued you throughout the day. Distracted you while working at the tavern, so much so the lumbering, but pleasant barkeep even asked after your health. More so than probably ever before, nothing could turn your thoughts away from the merman and the little island and how it had come to feel more like home than any place you’d ever set foot before. And throughout all this, your fingers would absently seek out the ridge beneath your shirt where the scale remained out of sight.

Even upon returning to your room at the boarding house that evening, you found the blue-gray eyes and warm smile keeping you from sleep. You wondered if this was the sort of haunting the old man may have meant in his story. Unable to settle, you wrapped yourself up in a heavy coat to stave off the chilly air and headed out into the night. The streets were practically deserted in the sickly glow of the lamps, soon to be extinguished. Your feet moved of their own accord as your mind reeled in thought. Was the scale really magic? Sebastian said few merfolk grew old or became sick. Had there been love in the giving? Had it grown in all the playfulness and care he’d lavished you with? A love and a sacrifice you misunderstood or foolishly ignored for want of comfort, when you may very well have left him to a fate he didn’t deserve

You realized your steps had drawn you near the docks and paused to look out over the sea. The moon was out and full, reflecting beautifully on the rolling waves. By its light, you could make out a ship on the furthest pier, shipments being loaded and unloaded. The decision was made then and there, feet taking up speed again with hardly any prompting. You would go to that ship and charter passage back across the sea, pilfer a rower, swim if you had to. If they refused tonight, you’d come back tomorrow with more money. Or you’d cut your hair again, despite knowing how much he loved to run a comb through it, and bind your chest and steal your way onto another pirate ship. Anything. You would do anything to get back to that little island. To Sebastian and his rocky perch and the smiles he gave you. Even just to make sure he was well and safe. Return the scale you didn’t deserve.

The cargo ship was just ahead. You were very nearly in the glow of its lamps, yet still unseen, when you heard a heavy splash in the water beneath the empty pier you passed. A large fish or a swooping bird were the likely culprits, but still it paused you in your tracks. Peeking out into the water, holding your breath, revealed a flash of familiar silvery-blue break the surface. Your heart quickened at the sight.

“Sebastian,” you whispered hopefully, barely able to make a sound around the tightness in your throat. You glanced toward the ship to assure yourself you still remained unnoticed before turning down the length of the pier.

The barest hint of silver-blue shone in the moonlight once more, though everything else remained hidden under the night-dark waters. You threw off your coat and pulled at your shoes, cursing their stiffness, until you stood on the wooden planks in nothing but the thin material of your sleeping gown. It could have just been a sturgeon seeking a late dinner. A trick of light. A figment of your imagination. A desperate wish. It could spell your death if you were wrong, catching a chill in the water with the winter air upon you. But you would take that chance just to know. The next flash had you diving straight into the cold black sea.

Surfacing with a gasp, you bobbed with the waves as you tread water and searched your line of sight frantically. You were just about to dive again to check below when you felt a cool hand on your shoulder.

“Hello, pretty thing. I’ve missed you.”

“Sebastian,” was your sobbing response. Twisting around, you had only a moment to take in his sweet face before wrapping your arms around him, clutching at him like you might sink. His hands pulled you in tighter and the water didn’t seem quite so chilled at his touch. After a few heartbeats, you leaned away just enough to look at his relieved smile as you began to cry again. “You found me. You found me.”

“You still have the scale,” he replied sweetly. Webbed fingers reached up to press over the hidden parcel like he knew exactly where to find it. “And you missed me, too.”

You chuckled and sobbed again in concert, nodding as you smoothed back his hair. “I did. I didn’t even realize how much until the old sailor said…”

“Sailors and their stories,” he chided playfully and leaned his forehead against yours.

“He said the scales are what hold your magic, keep you safe,” you continued anyway, stricken, feeling his tail swish against your gently kicking legs. “And that with just one missing… Sebastian, I couldn’t bear the thought of it! I was going to find a way back there. Back to you. You have to take the scale back. I can’t live a happy life knowing what could happen.”

“Is that all you wanted then,” he asked sadly, eyes unable to meet yours. “Return the scale and leave for land again?”

You shook your head fiercely and swallowed at the burn of your throat. “No. No, I would have stayed if you let me. It hurt so much to leave you before. I nearly followed you into the sea.”

“Do you mean that, pretty thing? Would you follow me into the sea?” Sebastian worried at his lower lip when his gaze found yours, that pleading look back in his features.

Swallowing hard again, you nodded. You meant every word and there was no sense in denying it. A smile flickered across his face, relief and a bit of that pride you remembered. He touched gently at your cheeks, salty with tears and seawater both, trailing down to the strip of leather resting at your neck. His fingers pulled at the makeshift necklace until it floated free of your shirt.

"Your sailors retell so many tales. Most they have all wrong, but some of them have truth," he explained in a divulging tone, slowly unwrapping the straps until the scale glowed in the moonlight. "The old sailor said our scales were magic. That's a truth. I told you as much before. Some sailors say merfolk are the souls of those who drown at sea and they create more by dragging the living down with them. But that's not quite right."

You watched, not understanding, but hanging on every word. He held the scale between his fingers in an offering. The look in his face was bright and coaxing, like when he wanted to share things with you on the island. You took it from him to bring close to your chest.

"If you meant what you said and you trust me," Sebastian continued, regarding you carefully. "Put the scale between your teeth and bite down."

This seemed a wholly strange request to make. Yet, you couldn't help but follow his instructions. He never lead you astray before. The scale fit practically perfect in your mouth, like it was chosen for just this purpose. When you clamped your jaw shut, you were surprised at the brittle crack it gave, some of the shards melting and tingling on your tongue with the familiar taste of seaweed. It was then that Sebastian cupped your face tenderly in his warm, webbed hands and leaned in for a kiss. His lips pressed to yours as soft as that morning on the beach, though this time the tip of his tongue darted out, entreating. You gasped quietly, allowing him entrance, and he gathered some of the remaining scale fragments into his own mouth before kissing you deeper.

The water surrounding you lost its chill by the time he plied you with several quick pecks before pulling away to grin at you. You were left breathless, mystified, looking upon him with awe and confusion. The mischievous smirk crossed his face just as he slipped below the waves. Lost a moment, you spun back and forth, expecting to see him reappear close by. Instead, you felt fingers wrap delicately around your ankle to pull you down under the water. On instinct, you gasped for air before being engulfed, but as Sebastian kissed you once more, it was driven from your lungs.

You panicked, fear coursing through your veins, and you thrashed wildly trying to regain your baring. You were nearly at the surface when you realized you weren't drowning. In truth, it felt as though you were breathing just as well as on land, if not better. And the darkness of the somewhat murky water did not hinder your eyesight at all. Searching, you discovered Sebastian a few meters away, smiling wide, twisting and swooping with the smallest flick of his great tail as he waited for you. Then, he reached out to beckon you closer. Smiling in kind, you took the offered hand with fingers slowly webbing together and let him pull you with him out into the open sea.


End file.
